


American Butcher

by hunnitea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fluff and Angst, Fucked Up, Heavy Angst, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Insane America (Hetalia), M/M, Multi, Murder, Necrophilia, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Some Humor, Suicide, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22914091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunnitea/pseuds/hunnitea
Summary: Alfred bought a new cabin in the forests of Canada and wants his friends to come and see it. If only they knew about his ulterior motives...
Relationships: America/Canada (Hetalia), America/England (Hetalia), America/France (Hetalia), America/Japan (Hetalia), Canada/England (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 65





	1. Cabin Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION: I DO NOT CONDONE THE ACTS OF RAPE, SUICIDE, MURDER OR GENERAL HARM TO OTHERS. THIS FIC DEALS WITH EXTREMELY SENSITIVE TOPICS, SO IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE WITH THAT, PLEASE LEAVE NOW.
> 
> IF YOU ARE HAVING TROUBLE WITH SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, I URGE YOU TO SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP. TRY CONTACTING A SUICIDE/SELF-HARM HOTLINE. STAY SAFE, YOU ARE WORTHY.

Alfred idly flicked his pen back and forth, too preoccupied with trying to calm his racing heart down than listening.

“...and that concludes the meeting for today. We'll continue this discussion next month, so keep hold of your notes,” Ludwig announced, walking over to remove his USB stick from the laptop.

Alfred perked up, smiling widely.

“Wait, wait! I've got something to say!”

Everyone stopped abruptly, looking at the American with perplexed expressions.

Alfred was urged on by the questioning silence. “So... I recently bought this really cool little cabin in the middle of nowhere and I thought y'all could come over and stay for a while!”

Arthur was first to speak. “No thanks, Alfred. In the middle of nowhere? Really? How would we keep ourselves entertained? What if we need help? There's far too much to worry about to go.”

“Artie, don't be like that! I promise, I'll keep y'all safe. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anyone got hurt!” Alfred pouted petulantly. “It'll only be for a week. Plus, we'll have eachother's company! It's actually in Canada, not America, so there'll be a little bit of travelling necessary, but it's all good.”

More stunned silence filled the room.

“Alfred,” Kiku began, “when is this trip supposed to be?”

Alfred's grin faltered, gradually turning guilty. “Next week... but, but, I can reschedule if you want!”

“Next week?!” Arthur cried. “Why tell us now, on such short notice?!”

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “...I bought it recently and got too excited to wait...”

Once again, more irritated quiet.

“I'll be able to make it,” came a quiet, almost timid voice. Everyone turned to face the source of the noise and saw Feliciano nervously fiddling with his hands.

Soon enough, Ludwig nodded too. “If Feli goes, so do I.”

“Despite the short notice, I've got nothing planned for next week and I've been stressed recently. I think it'd be a good time to relax for a bit,” Kiku agreed, shrugging his slim shoulders.

“You lot are insane,” Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But fine. If it really means that much to you, Alfred, then I'll go.”

“Do not fret, mon cher, I'll go with you and keep you warm,” Francis purred, winking at the Brit.

Arthur squeaked and punched Francis' arm, face beet red.

Matthew smiled fondly at his younger cousin and nodded too. Alfred grinned back.

Ivan sighed sadly. “Sorry, Alfred, I won't be able to make it. I hope you all have fun, though.”

Alfred nodded, feigning disappointment, as Yao raised his hand.

“I'll go, too,” he said.

“Sure thing, Yao.”

The trip was all set and Alfred couldn't wait.

\- THE FOLLOWING MONDAY -

The travel had been bumpy and awkward, quieting down as the hours passed. They had had to travel in a minivan with just enough seats for everyone except one. Francis had chosen to drive separately, closely following the minivan until they'd reached their destination. Arthur wouldn't stop complaining and Alfred finally snapped.

“Arthur, this week is supposed to be fun. Quit whining and relax, we're almost there,” Alfred hissed at the Brit from the front seat. Arthur merely cursed under his breath and pouted, sinking deeper into his seat.

Once they'd finally arrived, Alfred grinned widely, arms outstretched as his friends stepped out of the minivan and towards the cabin.

He'd invited a select group of people to stay with him for a week at his new cabin he'd spontaneously bought in the middle of nowhere. Matthew, Arthur, Francis, Yao, Ludwig, Feliciano and Kiku were all stuck with him for seven days. 'Lucky them!' Alfred had thought with a smile.

“Welcome, guys! Come on in, make yourselves at home!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Your enthusiasm frightens me.”

“Oh, Arthur,” Alfred chuckled as the Brit walked up to him, “I don't think my enthusiasm is bad at all! You're just pessimistic.”

Arthur huffed and dragged his bags inside where everyone else was gathered. The trip was so sudden, hastily planned. It was just like Alfred to leave explanations until last minute. Still, everyone was able to attend except Ivan, surprisingly enough. 

It was still oddly suspicious; Alfred had just burst into the meeting room one day, yelling about some cabin he'd bought in the middle of a forest. So, essentially in the middle of nowhere. Still, nobody thought much of it other than Alfred just “being stupid as per usual”, as Arthur had put it.

Despite the group's complaints, however, the cabin was indeed nice. The walls were wooden logs and accentuated the cosy feel to it, though the fire in the hearth was what made it seem so much more welcoming. There was a plush crimson rug in the centre of the floor and comfy-looking chairs were neatly placed around the room. Picture frames decorated the various shelves as well as the top of a bookcase that stood by the window where the front door was. Feliciano gazed around in wonder with his playful auburn eyes that glimmered in the light of the fire. Matthew, Alfred's cousin, was aware that snowstorms were likely to come just by glancing at the heavy clouds in the sky, only to have his suspicions confirmed by Alfred.

“So, long story short, there's probably gonna be a few blizzards 'n stuff, so it's best to stay inside for that. Also, we're in the middle of nowhere, so don't stray too far out in the forest,” he'd said, hands on his hips as he smiled brightly. 

Matthew shook his head at the memory, focusing on exploring the rest of cabin.

Francis walked over to a door by the fireplace, pushing it open to reveal a hallway. He cocked a brow and glanced back at Alfred with curious sky blue eyes. Alfred nodded eagerly, trailing after the Frenchman to explain.

“These are where the bedrooms and stuff are! There's a bathroom right at the end of the hall and there's two beds in every room,” Alfred said, leading the others through. He pushed open multiple doors to show that there were indeed multiple bedrooms.

Alfred pulled Francis aside to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you could get it on with Arthur, huh? Just cover his mouth; he's probably a loud one in bed with how much he yells outside of it.”

Francis' face flushed and he smirked, clicking his tongue. He nodded and sauntered over to Arthur, seductively draping an arm over the Brit's narrow shoulders. Alfred laughed as Arthur squawked and slapped Francis repeatedly, face beet red. 

Feliciano had gone to look in the bathroom, humming absently as he turned to leave. He let out a yelp as he walked into a solid chest, stepping back to look up at the person he'd walked into. 

“Oh, Ludwig! I didn't see you there, sorry!” He said, placing a hand over his heart as he sighed.

Ludwig gave an awkward smile and stepped out of Feliciano's way, allowing the small Italian to exit. 

Eventually, the bedroom area had been thoroughly explored by everyone and they went back to the main room, enjoying the warmth of the fire on their faces. Alfred abruptly stood up, clapping his hands loudly.

“Okay, so y'all know where the bedrooms are. The kitchen is over there,” he pointed to a door to his left, “but there's no dining room, so we'll just eat in here.”

The group nodded and Kiku raised his hand. Alfred chuckled at the action, shaking his head.

“No need to be so polite, Kiku! We're all friends, don't worry.”

Kiku nodded. “You mentioned earlier that there may be blizzards. What do we do then? There's no signal here and we can't possibly stay entertained all by ourselves.”

Ludwig nodded with a huff. “He's got a point. What would we do?”

“Y'all know what friends are, right? We talk with eachother, get drunk – except you, Arthur, you can't handle your liquor for shit – and just chill out!”

“Oi, I can handle my liquor perfectly fine, wanker!” Arthur protested, perking up at the mention of alcohol.

The group bickered senselessly and discussed their roommates for a while until night began to fall. The travel had worn them all out, so an early night was to be expected. They all retired to their respective bedrooms and allowed slumber to overtake them.

Alfred lay awake in his bed, that strange feeling bubbling beneath the surface. It had been there for a while now, perhaps this trip would make it go away.

He looked over at Matthew's sleeping form. The Canadian looked so peaceful, so calm. He was anyway, not that anyone really noticed. Matthew was the one people tended to forget about, despite their efforts. Alfred smiled. He'd never forget his beloved cousin on this trip. Not until it was over. He decided to wait a little while longer, eventually falling asleep himself.


	2. Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's urges are getting stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself, I had to update again! Sorry if it's too soon :')   
> Enjoy anyways!

\- THE NEXT MORNING -

Alfred awoke with a yawn, stretching his arms above his head. Matthew was already out of bed, and he could hear someone's footsteps in the bathroom. He put his glasses on and stepped out of bed, walking down the hallway to the main room. Sat on a few of the chairs were Matthew, Francis, Ludwig and Kiku.

“Mornin', guys,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

Kiku merely nodded, still half-asleep. Matthew flashed him a warm smile.

“Good morning, Alfred. I hope I wasn't too loud this morning. I'd feel awful if I woke you up,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Alfred shook his head with a toothy grin. “Nah, 's all good, dude.”

Kiku glanced at Francis, gently rubbing his bleary eyes. “Is Arthur up yet? He usually wakes up early, right? How else would he make every meeting on time?”

“Oui, I think I kept him going for too long...” Francis replied with a smirk and a chuckle.

Matthew and Kiku spluttered, embarrassed, while Ludwig merely scowled at the Frenchman. Alfred laughed heartily. 

“No way, man, I think we would've heard it.”

Francis scoffed, smiling smugly. “You told me to keep him quiet.”

Just then, Arthur shuffled into the room, pale blond hair messier than usual. He was still in his pyjamas although the fabric was pulled down over one shoulder, exposing the skin. Alfred briefly wondered how easy it'd be to break through that vulnerable flesh with a knife.

'Not yet,' he reminded himself.

“Morning,” Arthur rasped, ambling over to the kitchen. The Brit heard a few responses but didn't fully acknowledge them since he'd just woken up.

The living room was peaceful and oddly serene, and Arthur came back with a cup of tea held daintily in his slim hands. Arthur sat himself down into a chair and sipped, humming pleasantly.

Matthew wandered over to the window, peering outside. Snow was falling to the ground but would no doubt become a snowstorm in due time.

“It looks like it's getting worse out there.”

Ludwig hummed gruffly, watching the window with wary eyes. They were bound to be confined to the cabin, that much was obvious, but something seemed off. He shook it off, blaming it on stress.

One by one, the others filed in and they began to worry about the oncoming storm.

“Don't worry, the outside walls are super thick and made to withstand this kind of weather. We have the fire to keep us warm and we have plenty of water and food in the kitchen. We're safe, guys. Don't worry,” Alfred explained, soothing everyone's nerves.

The snow seemed to get heavier and heavier with each passing minute, the glass of the window rattling against the frame with every sudden surge of wind.

Arthur seemed oddly infatuated with the snow, and Alfred laughed at his awestruck expression.

“I've never seen snow this bad before! It's so... peculiar! I've always associated snow with calm Christmas nights but now it's just so heavy,” Arthur explained with bright, excited emerald eyes and a small sliver of a smile on his pale face.

“I take it you never got too much snow back in England, huh?” Matthew had asked, standing beside Arthur next to the window.

Arthur merely shook his head, too busy gazing outside to verbally respond. Matthew chuckled, placing a hand on the small of Arthur's back.

Alfred noticed the small affectionate gesture and looked over to Francis with a small frown. The Frenchman didn't look too bothered, surprisingly, so Alfred just shook it off.

The group lapsed into random conversations and small talk. Alfred's stomach rumbled and he grinned sheepishly.

“I'm gonna go get a sandwich or something. I'll be back in a sec,” he said, before turning around and walking into the kitchen.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon.


	3. One Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain someone gets a little hurt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER GETS FUCKED UP. IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH NECROPHILIA (IN THE TAGS) I DON'T RECOMMEND READING.

Alfred hummed as he prepared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He picked listlessly at it, savouring the little bursts of flavour he recieved with every bite. The blade of the knife was so tempting, calling to him with seductive glints of silver. It was like it wanted to fuel Alfred's perverse desire to hurt people, and Alfred knew exactly who'd go first. Shifty blue eyes glanced anxiously over his shoulder, ensuring the kitchen was empty when he pocketed the knife. He finished his sandwich, wiping the crumbs off of his hands and onto his trousers.

It was now or never.

He could hear the laughter of the group through the flimsy wood of the kitchen door and he grinned. Then, Matthew's timid voice rang in his ears.

“I'll be back, I just need to use the bathroom.”

Everything was going to plan.

Once the chatter resumed, he slipped quietly out of the kitchen and into the hall. Matthew was quite away ahead of him but Alfred knew better than to hurry. It wasn't like Matthew could escape his fate now, anyway.

The bathroom door shut and the lock clicked as Alfred stalked closer and closer. He extracted the knife from his pocket, ready to strike. The toilet audibly flushed and the tap water ran before the door opened.

A heartbeat of peace fluttered between them, a moment where Alfred had not yet struck and Matthew knew nothing about his oncoming demise.

Adrenaline soared through Alfred's veins and the blade sank into the side of Matthew's delicate neck, a rough, calloused hand firmly holding his mouth closed. Alfred had the Canadian pinned to the wall as he pushed the blade deeper, rivers of red streaming down Matthew's chest and shoulder. Matthew twitched as Alfred shushed him, cooing bittersweet words into his ear.

“It'll be okay. It'll be over soon, alright? Just don't struggle. You're so pretty with all this blood coming out, y'know that? I shouldn't tell you what I wanna do next... no, not yet. But don't you worry your pretty li'l head, you won't feel a thing.”

Eventually, Matthew's twitching stopped, and Alfred extracted the knife. He heaved Matthew's lifeless body over his broad shoulder, carrying him back into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and smiled sweetly at the corpse in front of him. Carefully, he maneuvered Matthew's body into the bathtub, removing the Canadian's trousers and underwear. His body was still warm and Alfred saw a window of opportunity open just for him.

He crawled into the bathtub, sitting between Matthew's bare legs. His cock was hard, and he unzipped his jeans, pulling it through the slit in his briefs. Dabbing his fingers in the blood from Matthew's neck, he lubed up his dick, inhaling the rich, metallic scent of blood. 

“I love you, Matthew. I'm the only one who ever loved you. You were always alone, always unnoticed. I'm doing this for you.”

With trembling hands, Alfred pushed up Matthew's legs, licking his lips at the sight of the Canadian's tight hole. He moved his hips until he was right at Matthew's entrance before pushing in.

It was so tight, like a vice around his cock. Alfred panted deliriously, sheathing himself in fully before pulling back out and slamming in again. He had no shame, no remorse for what he was doing. It felt so good, too good, and he found he couldn't stop. Thrusting into that pliant body was ecstasy and Alfred felt his climax coming faster than he thought it would.

Eventually, he came, shooting thick white ribbons into Matthew's corpse. He removed his limp cock with a smidge of effort and tucked it back in, despite the blood that soaked it. Alfred washed his hands in the sink, mourning the loss of that drying red on his hands. He washed out the bathtub, smirking at the sight of blood and cum that swirled down the drain.

His and Matthew's shared room was right by the bathroom and he slipped in to change his blood-stained clothes without any fuss. He returned to the bathroom, heaved Matthew's corpse over his shoulder again and used one hand to push open the window above the sink. Then, he shoved the Canadian through it, listening to the satisfying thud of his body in the snow. Alfred closed the window again and returned to the living room.

“Oh, hi again, Alfred. Is Matthew still in the bathroom?” Feliciano asked with a sweet smile.

Alfred shook his head. “Nah. I saw him come out a while ago, he told me he was really tired. He's asleep in our room, don't worry.”

Feliciano nodded and hurried off to use the bathroom, humming a cheerful tune as he went.

Nobody was suspicious.

Nobody was aware.

Alfred's desires were sated back in the bathroom, but his mind raced with growing urges. He didn't have much time to kill everyone else, but he'd be damned if he'd let them get away.

Nobody except Alfred himself would get out of the cabin alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's one down. I saw people's thoughts on who would go next and, surprisingly, Canada wasn't amongst them. That's perfect, though; I love the creating the element of surprise!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Settling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another death is in the works.

\- LATER THAT EVENING -

“Matthew's been gone for a while now, I'm getting rather worried,” Arthur mentioned, looking around the room with concerned eyes.

Alfred's eyes narrowed at the Brit. “Oh, don't worry, Art. He's fast asleep in my room.”

Arthur nodded. “He's been asleep for an awfully long time now, though...”

Alfred felt his eye twitch and he fought to regain his composure. Arthur was a naturally cautious person, relying on his own suspicions of people to judge them. It had been his downfall quite a few times, but he was too stubborn to change. He'd have to go soon.

Arthur was intelligent, Alfred knew very well. If Alfred kept bringing up excuses, Arthur would catch on eventually. However, now was not the best time to stop.

“Arthur, dude, chill out. You worry too much. You know how he is, when he naps, he doesn't wake up for ages.”

The Brit took a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. “...I suppose you're right.”

The chatter died down and the only sounds were the crackling of the fireplace and the faint hum of heavy snow falling outside. Ludwig broke the silence.

“What do we do now? We can't go outside, that'd be impossible,” he said, readjusting himself in his chair.

There were small murmurs of agreement around the room. Alfred grinned.

“Why don't we play party games or something? Or we could cook something?” Alfred suggested.

Arthur perked up. “Oh, I don't mind cooking–”

“No, no, it's fine, Arthur, you really don't have to do that!” Alfred interrupted, trying to be as polite as possible.

Francis shook his head. “Mon lapin, please do not cook. Do not put our taste buds through such despair! Let me or Feliciano cook, preferably me since Feliciano will likely only make pasta.”

“Your food is so terribly bland, Arthur! Please don't cook!” Feliciano begged, tears welling up in his auburn eyes.

Arthur was appalled. “Okay, Jesus! I get it, you don't like my cooking, but that's just because you can't appreciate good cuisine!” Arthur rolled his eyes. “But, fine, I won't cook.”

Sighs of relief echoed throughout the room and Arthur growled, sinking farther into his chair.

Francis raised his hand. “May I do it for tonight? Feliciano can cook tomorrow night.”

“Sure, Fran. Your food is amazing anyways,” Alfred agreed.

Francis clapped happily, rambling on about techniques he liked to use to make his meals the best. Arthur, meanwhile, sulked in his seat, glaring daggers out of the window.

“I miss Matthew,” he muttered to himself.

Alfred managed to hear Arthur's quiet statement and tried not to openly laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R.I.P Arthur's cooking :(
> 
> It may be obvious by now, but who do you think gonna go next?


	5. Would It Taste Good If You Knew?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another murder takes place and Alfred makes a wonderful meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A RAPE SCENE, FEEL FREE TO SKIP IT. IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT, SKIP FROM THE PARAGRAPH STARTING WITH “Alfred dropped the knife...” TO “Now, to hide him.”

\- LATER THAT EVENING -

Francis whirled elegantly around the kitchen, preparing the meal for everyone to enjoy. They didn't have all of the ingredients available for him to cook how he usually would, but there was enough for a decent meal. 

He chopped an onion up with careful, professional precision, cupping the pieces afterwards and putting them into the blender. He examined the buttons on the base of it, getting himself acquainted with the controls. Alfred entered silently, eyes widening at the sight of the blender.

This was all too easy.

Most of the others were in their own rooms, and the ones that weren't were talking loudly to eachother in the living room.

Creeping up behind the Frenchman, Alfred held his breath. He grabbed a handful of silky long blond locks, covering his mouth as he shoved Francis' hand into the blender. He switched it on, feeling Francis claw at Alfred's hand covering his mouth as he shrieked in pain. Blood spattered from the open blender, some managing to paint a little of both Francis and Alfred's faces red. The blood smeared up the Frenchman's arm and over his clothes. Once Alfred had had enough, he switched the blender off and shoved Francis to the ground.

Alfred swept a knife off of the counter and into his hand, crawling over Francis' violently trembling body. He plunged the knife into one of those pretty cerulean eyes, twisting the blade and shoving it deeper. The Frenchman twitched beneath him and Alfred pulled the knife back out. He quickly snatched Francis' phone and car keys, hiding them in his trouser pocket.

Alfred wasn't done.

“No time to have all my fun with you, pretty boy, but I do have something in mind before I go.”

Alfred dropped the knife to pull Francis' trousers and underwear down, flipping his pliant body over. He grabbed the knife again and positioned the blade against Francis' hole. Alfred giggled and pushed it in, loving how it bled immediately. He fucked the Frenchman with the knife before extracting it a final time and throwing it behind him. 

Now, to hide him.

Alfred crawled over to the freezer, opening it and removing everything inside. He dragged Francis over to him and folded his corpse as much as he could, squeezing him into the freezer.

Finally, he managed to get him in after a few minutes of struggling. Alfred shut the door and hid the rest of what was previously in the freezer in an empty cupboard. 

Another one down.

Extracting the phone from his pocket, he messaged Arthur as well as himself.

“From: Francis  
To: Arthur

Mon petit lapin, something came up. I must return early, but I hope you have fun there! Au revoir, mon cher~”

That was one text done. Now to message himself.

“From: Francis  
To: Alfred

Salut, Alfred. I'm afraid I must go home early due to personal problems. Matthew decided to come with me to navigate the way. Have fun with the others! Au revoir, mon ami.”

He quickly mopped up the mass amounts of blood on the counter and floor, washing up the blender after he was done. Then, he opened the kitchen door just slightly.

Alfred peeked into the main room and noticed only Arthur and Ludwig sat in there, focused solely on the books they were reading. They were facing away from the kitchen door and Alfred was able to sneak out without much trouble.

He changed his clothes once more, no longer covered in bloodstains. He wore thick, warm clothes for what he was about to do. Alfred shoved Matthew's clothes and other possessions into the suitcase and set it down in the bathroom. Carefully, he quietly walked over to Arthur's bedroom and did the same with Francis' clothes. The bathroom was right outside his own room, and he pushed both suitcases outside, one at a time. He climbed outside too, landing in the snow. Matthew's corpse was buried under a thick layer of snow, not that Alfred paid it any mind. Nobody else would see it anyways.

Alfred unlocked the car and dragged both suitcases, cautiously packing them into Francis' car. Before he got into the front seat, he scraped the snow and ice off of the windscreen, clearing his vision. Then, once he was inside, he began to drive off. It was rather difficult considering the snow, but eventually he managed to get it going. He drove it as far as he could before the engine spluttered and the car came to an abrupt halt. It was far enough, anyways. He stepped out, teeth chattering, and made his way back to the cabin.

The bathroom window was, thankfully, still open, and he climbed back inside with the help of Matthew's body beneath him to elevate him. Once back inside, he shut the window again.

A knock on the bathroom door startled him.

“Is someone in there?” asked a cheerful voice. Feliciano.

“Yeah, don't worry, Feli! I'll be out in a sec,” Alfred replied, flushing the toilet and running the tap. He unlocked the bathroom door, wiping his hands on his trousers for further effect. 

Feliciano shuffled inside as Alfred left.

Heart roaring in his chest, he made his way back to the living room.

“Is dinner done yet? I'm hungry as fuck, guys,” Alfred said innocently, grinning all the while.

Ludwig turned to look at Alfred and shook his head. “No, Francis is still in there.”

Arthur raised a thick brow. “Perhaps we should check on him? Matthew, too,” he suggested.

Alfred nodded. “Why not?”

Arthur and Ludwig got to their feet and walked up to Alfred.

“Who should check where?” Ludwig asked, glancing around the room.

“I'll check out the kitchen,” Alfred volunteered.

Arthur and Ludwig nodded, both moving towards the door by the fireplace while Alfred went back into the kitchen.

Of course, Francis wasn't visible. He was still in the freezer. 

An idea popped into Alfred's mind and he chuckled with a manic grin. 

Arthur and Ludwig soon returned, both panicked.

“Alfred, Matthew's not there! Is Francis still in the kitchen?” Arthur cried, lower lip trembling. Alfred could see how hard he was trying to keep the tears back.

Alfred faked worry. “Francis isn't in the kitchen, either. Oh, God, where could they be? Maybe he messaged...” He paused for a second, checking his phone. Sure enough, there was the text message from Francis. He studied it for a moment before giving a relieved sigh and smiling at the other two.

“Don't worry, guys. He had to leave with Matthew due to personal problems. He's okay,” Alfred lied.

“Wait, how did he message you? Can you show me the message?” Arthur asked, sceptical. 

“It's the messaging app that was originally on my phone, it worked just fine for me,” Alfred explained, handing over his phone.

Arthur read the message and felt himself relax. He nodded, no longer worrying.

“Such an odd time to leave. In the middle of making dinner? We'll have to get someone else to cook,” Ludwig said.

Alfred perked up. “I'll cook! Feli can do it tomorrow night, like he agreed to earlier, and my cooking's decent enough!”

Ludwig and Arthur exchanged glances before nodding reluctantly.

“Awesome!” Alfred cried, fist-pumping the air. He shooed the two out of the kitchen and smiled.

This would be a very interesting meal indeed.

\- AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER -

Alfred burst into the living room, holding a stack of plates. “Dinner's ready, guys!” He said, smiling widely. “I'll get it in a sec, but here's the plates and cutlery!”

Yao, Ludwig, Arthur and Feliciano were in the living room by the time Alfred was back and Arthur went to alert Kiku. Soon enough, everyone was in the living room as Alfred brought the meal in.

“Where's Francis and Matthew?” Yao asked, looking over at Alfred.

Arthur explained first. “They both went home, Francis had personal issues going on and Matthew had to guide him home.

Yao nodded and accepted a portion of meat that Alfred handed to him.

“Mm! Alfred, this tastes amazing! What meat is it?” Feliciano said through a mouthful of food. Alfred grinned.

“It's pork,” he lied, hoping they'd all believe it. They seemed to accept it and continued eating.

'Francis' cooking must've made him taste better in the future,' Alfeed mused, grinning widely.

Alfred licked his lips and dug into the meat, knowing full well it was Francis' thigh. He tasted wonderful, and with the knowledge that the food was previously Francis made it so much better.

That wasn't even the best part.

The best part was everyone greedily eating the meat, not knowing what Alfred knew. It was so perfect.

Once dinner was over, Alfred collected the plates. Some of them had had smaller portions, like Arthur, Yao and Kiku, but still ate all of what they'd taken. There was barely any of Francis' thigh left, and he smirked. Just imagining their faces if they knew what they'd just consumed made Alfred want to burst into fits of hysterical laughter.

The night afterwards was quite calm, surprisingly. Feliciano stared outside as he sat next to Ludwig, faintly humming a familiar Christmas song.

“Do you think we'll be able to go outside tomorrow?” he asked, turning his head to look at Alfred.

Alfred shook his head. “Not if the weather keeps up like this.”

Feliciano pouted and snuggled closer to Ludwig. The German blushed and draped an arm around Feliciano's shoulders.

Night fell and Arthur felt himself grow drowsy. 

“I think I'm going to go to bed a little early tonight. The panic earlier and the food must've really gotten to me. Thanks for the meal, though, Alfred,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

Alfred flashed his usual award-winning smile. “No problem, Artie! Sleep well, dude.”

Arthur nodded and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Yao stretched and yawned. 

“I might go to bed too. Goodnight, everyone,” he announced, heading off to bed as well. 

“Anyone else wanna go to bed?” Alfred asked. Kiku got to his feet with a nod, leaving the room quietly. Feliciano quickly left too, yawning loudly.

“...we might as well go to bed too. I'll see you in the morning, Alfred,” Ludwig said, nodding at the American before stumbling tiredly to his room. Alfred nodded and let him leave. 

He retired to his own room and fell into a restless sleep full of tossing and turning, eager to kill again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's living in the year 3000 with that kind of technology smh


	6. Despite The Snow, It's Boiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, someone else kicks the bucket.

\- THE FOLLOWING MORNING -

Once again, everyone gathered in the main room. It was a groggy morning, similar to the one prior. Feliciano was practically bouncing in his seat.

“Feliciano, what are you so excited about?” Kiku asked, tilting his head to the side.

Feliciano grinned. “I'm just excited to cook today!”

“You can cook breakfast if you want,” Alfred suggested. 

“Just after I get some tea,” Arthur intervened. “I don't want to have to get some while he's still cooking in case his recklessness kills me.”

“Sure thing, Arthur! I'll think of cooking techniques while I wait,” Feliciano said with a dopey smile.

Arthur huffed and went into the kitchen, quickly fixing up a cup of tea and sipping it idly as he re-entered the living room. “The kitchen's free now, Feliciano.”

The Italian squealed and ran off to the kitchen, rustling around eagerly. Alfred smiled to himself.

“I'm going to stay in my room until he comes back. Call me when he's done,” Arthur mumbled, stalking off to his bedroom. Yao and Kiku remained sat on the couch facing towards the window.

This was a perfect opportunity.

Alfred quietly walked into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Feliciano heard Alfred step in and smiled softly to himself.

“Ciao, Alfred! Is there something I can help you with?” he asked, still focused on his cooking. Of course he was making pasta, even for breakfast. 

Alfred remained silent, making sure the door behind him was firmly shut. He laughed, a humourless, harsh laugh, and stepped towards Feliciano.

“Don't scream or I'll fucking kill you.”

Before Feliciano could comprehend what had just been said, the back of his head was roughly grabbed and his face was shoved into the pot of bowling water he'd set up in front of him. He tensed and screeched as he felt his face burn, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Alfred pulled his hand back, taking the Italian's head back with it and bashed his head against the counter with all of his strength. He did it again and again and again until all that was left of Feliciano's head was a bloody, swollen mess. 

Alfred mourned the lack of time he had to have fun with him. Simply killing Feliciano would have to suffice.

Alfred grabbed hold of the pan that he'd dunked Feliciano's face in and threw it, letting it land on the floor. Then, when the scene looked convincing enough, he walked back over to where he'd been stood when he first entered...

And he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, another one down. Who's next?


	7. A Burial in the Snow and a Fatal Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ludwig.

“Help! Oh, shit, someone get in here and help!”

Yao and Kiku were first to burst into the kitchen, noticing Alfred's crocodile tears before looking at Feliciano's lifeless body. They shrieked in horror, the others following soon after. Ludwig seemed especially distressed at the sight of such a bloody mess.

After staring wide-eyed and tearful at the state of it, Arthur's eyes rolled back and he fainted, landing in Ludwig's arms.

“What happened, Alfred?!” Kiku asked, chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to tear his gaze away.

“He was just cooking, you know? I... I heard a crash in here, so I came rushing in, and he was runnin' around with his face all bloody! He prob'ly couldn't see a thing, and he bashed his head into the counter real hard! I don't know if he's dead or not, oh, God...” Alfred lied, rubbing fake tears from behind his glasses.

Ludwig bit down on his bottom lip, but despite his efforts, a sob still burst forth from his thin lips. “No, no, Feli...”

Yao covered his mouth and ran away, most likely to the bathroom, to vomit. Ludwig passed an unconscious Arthur over to Alfred and fell to his knees, crawling over to Feliciano's limp body. 

“No, no, don't be dead, please,” he begged, and Alfred felt nothing. He wanted to openly laugh at the German for being so pathetic. Alfred felt no remorse, not even a twinge of guilt or sadness. He was loving the thrill of being a killer.

Ludwig looked tearfully at Alfred. “Can you save him? Please? Call an ambulance or something? I can't go on without him.”

Alfred rubbed his forehead with one hand. “They wouldn't be able to find us.”

“Arthur was right. We shouldn't have come here,” Kiku choked out. Yao nodded in agreement, tearing his chocolate brown eyes away from Feliciano's corpse.

“Then we need to go home. Immediately. I can't stay here after seeing him like this.” Ludwig's voice was firm despite how it trembled.

Alfred gulped. “The van wouldn't get far. Not with snow like that.”

Ludwig stilled, looked back at the body he cradled in his arms...

And screamed.

It was a scream of pure anguish, the sound of a truly broken man. It was so utterly uncharacteristic that Alfred was momentarily taken aback.

Arthur awoke, blinking groggily. He stood up from where Alfred had held him. 

“Was that a dream?” he asked softly. “Please tell me it was a dream.”

Alfred looked down at him and merely shook his head. Arthur sobbed and pressed his face into Alfred's broad chest. He couldn't stand to look at the body.

Other than the sounds of sniffling and crying, it was silent. Alfred eventually piped up.

“Should we bury him? I know the snow's awful, but it'd be so wrong to leave him here.”

Ludwig nodded, standing up with Feliciano still dead in his arms. He carried him like a groom would his bride, steps slow and uneven.

The morning sun was hazy and scorched their eyes. Alfred went round the back of the cabin, passing the area where Matthew's had been buried under layers and layers of snow, and managed to find a shovel. It was practically frozen solid, but it'd have to do. 

Returning back to the front, he whacked the spade against the wall of the house, watching the ice that had formed on it shatter. He dug into the snow, shovelling it out of the way. When he found grass beneath it, he dug down. It took a while and Alfred's muscles screamed at him with the exertion. Ludwig gently placed Feliciano's body into the hole and switched with Alfred to bury him. Once he was done, he pushed the shovel into the ground above where the Italian's head would be. It'd have to do since there was nothing else he could use for a tombstone.

They took turns saying words for Feliciano before returning back inside, sitting round the fireplace to warm themselves up. Everyone was silent.

Ludwig went to bed early. Nobody stopped him from going.

Night fell and Yao and Kiku both retired to their shared bedroom without a word. Meanwhile, Arthur went into the kitchen. The blood still hadn't been cleaned up and he suppressed a gag at the sight.

That mistake was on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's fairly obvious who's next.


	8. You Leave Me Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fatal mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT RAPE/NON-CONSENSUAL SEX. IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE READING THAT, SKIP FROM THE PARAGRAPH BEGINNING WITH “Alfred leaned forwards, pressing open-mouthed kisses...” TO WHEN ALFRED SAYS, “Shh, it's okay...”.

Arthur decided to get drunk. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and gulped the alcohol down. He had a feeling of paranoia bursting through his nerves, like he was being watched. He shook his head and continued to drink.

Alfred stared at him through the gap in the door. Arthur was one to get drunk easily, one of his many weaknesses. His tolerance for alcohol was low and he managed to get wasted in very little time. Alfred watched as he tipped back another beer, sobbing quietly to himself. He'd never been too close to Feliciano, but now that the cheerful Italian was found dead in the kitchen, Arthur was different. Skittish, irritable and paranoid. He used to be so strong, but here he was, crumbling right before Alfred's very eyes.

Arthur slumped against the fridge, arms limp by his sides. Already, he was drunk. The half-empty beer can was held loosely in his hand and his eyes were foggy with inebriation. He was practically begging for it with the way his legs spread out on the floor where he sat. A choked sob escaped his lips and Alfred finally made a move to step in.

“Hey, bud. You alright?” Alfred queried, feigning sympathy.

Arthur's gaze was hazy and vacant, like his soul had left his body. His red-tinted cheeks were wet with tears and Alfred sighed.

“C'mon. Let's get you to bed.”

Alfred picked up the Brit with little effort, carrying him to the bedroom he used to share with Francis. The American laid him down on the bed, brushing strands of blond hair out of his face. He stood back up and locked the bedroom door, not that Arthur noticed. He was too intoxicated to care.

Poor little Arthur.

Alfred climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs. Arthur moaned and tried to turn away, head tilted back and brows furrowed. 

This was his chance.

Alfred leaned forwards, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the pale skin of Arthur's unblemished neck. There was a soft noise of confusion from the older male and frail hands found Alfred's broad chest to nudge him off. Alfred merely chuckled, grazing teeth against Arthur's neck. 

“Alfred, don't wanna. Tired, Al. 'M so tired,” Arthur managed to say through hiccups and tears. 

Alfred spread Arthur's legs, readjusting himself between them. Arthur continued to resist as much as he could in his drunken state. He was weaker than he would've been if he was sober, and he unknowingly made Alfred's plans lot easier.

Alfred pulled Arthur's black jeans down his soft thighs, past his knees and ankles until they were off of him completely. He continued to leave marks on Arthur's neck, using one hand to unzip his own trousers and shimmy them down enough to get his cock out through his briefs. He spat on his hand and pumped it a few times, pulling Arthur's underwear down afterwards.

He positioned his cock at Arthur's tight, pink entrance and began to push in, no lube or preparation. He quickly muffled Arthur's screaming with his hand, smothering the Brit's nose and mouth. Once he was fully sheathed, he let himself sit there for a few moments before pulling out and pushing back in, faster this time.

Arthur had sobered up rather quickly with the immense pain shooting up his spine. He flailed his arms and pushed at Alfred's biceps, eyes wide and alert. His chest heaved with panicked breaths, fear crawling up the base of his neck like a bitter, hateful spider. 

Alfred relished the tightness of Arthur's insides and felt blood smear against his dick. The insides of Arthur's previously pale thighs were coated with bright red blood. Alfred let loose and pounded into the tense body under him, fuelled by the Brit's sobs and attempts to get away. 

The bed rocked back and forth with the sheer force of Alfred's thrusts and eventually, after a while of groaning at the vice-like grip around his cock and panting with exertion, he came, filling Arthur's unwilling body to the brim with cum. He removed his now-limp cock, stuffing it back into his briefs as Arthur curled in on himself beneath him. 

“Shh, it's okay. You won't be in pain for much longer, alright?” Alfred whispered, breath hot against the shell of Arthur's ear. Arthur shook his head frantically, eyes wide as his entire lithe frame trembled with unadulterated fear.

Now straddling Arthur's bare thighs once again, he reached behind the Brit's head and snatched the pillow. He fluffed it up, smirking at Arthur's whimpers, and held it down over Arthur's face. He made sure it completely smothered him, made sure the Brit couldn't get a single breath in. It seemed he wouldn't go without a fight, however. He kicked and scratched at Alfred's hands, sharp nails digging into the calloused skin. Alfred grunted and held pillow down harder, feeling Arthur's body writhe and twitch beneath him. After about four minutes, Arthur's struggling ceased.

Alfred removed the pillow, quickly grabbing the roll of duct tape he'd stored in his trouser pocket and taping Arthur's mouth closed, as well as taping over his nostrils. He knew Arthur wasn't dead just yet, merely unconscious. Alfred carelessly threw Arthur's pliant body over his shoulder and walked cautiously to the bathroom, using his free hand to push open the window like he'd done with Matthew. He carelessly threw Arthur's body outside, shutting the window right after. 

There was no way Arthur would survive in the cold while unconscious and unable to breathe. Alfred smirked to himself.

“Not many more to go,” he murmured to himself as he exited the bathroom once more. He decided to go to bed since nobody else was bound to come out due to... previous events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, Arthur, but it had to be done :(


	9. Isn't This Fun, Pig?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final victims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's a leap year, why not have a third update in one day? Enjoy, the final chapter will be released tomorrow!
> 
> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT RAPE/NON-CONSENSUAL SEX. IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE READING THAT, YOU CAN SKIP FROM THE PARAGRAPH BEGINNING WITH WHEN ALFRED SAYS “Peek-a-boo, little piggy...” TO “Alfred finished and...”. VOMIT IS ALSO BRIEFLY MENTIONED IN THE LINE BEGINNING WITH “It suddenly dawned on Kiku...”. SUICIDE IS ALSO BROUGHT UP AND IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THAT, SKIP FROM “When he opened the door, the sight was not what he expected.” TO “Yao closed his eyes...”.

\- THE NEXT MORNING -

Alfred was first awake, humming a cheerful tune as he went. After ten minutes of nobody else showing up inside the main room, he went to look for them. He debated on which door to knock at first.

Ludwig was probably more important, so he opted for that.

“Lud? You okay?” he said behind the door. Silence. “Alright, I'm gonna come in now,” he eventually said.

When he opened the door, the sight was not what he expected.

He expected Ludwig to be in bed, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes. Instead, Ludwig was face-down on the floor, a suit tie pulled taut around his neck. He was perfectly still and the stench of death tickled Alfred's nostrils.

“Holy shit.”

He stepped out of the room, leaving the door wide open. He knocked frantically on Yao and Kiku's door, waiting for a response. Thankfully, the two came out and stared at Alfred.

“What's wrong?” Kiku asked, eyes red and puffy like he'd been crying. Yao looked similar.

“Ludwig. He... he killed himself. I only just found him,” Alfred said, truthful for once.

Yao closed his eyes and sobbed again, Kiku doing the same. 

“I think we should bury him, like we did with Feli.”

“Is Arthur okay? Where is he?” Kiku asked through sniffles and tears.

Alfred paused. “I checked on him earlier, he's not in his room. He might be in the kitchen, I'll check real quick. Stay here.”

The two nodded as Alfred ran off to the kitchen. Once he was in there, he grabbed a kitchen knife from the same drawer he'd taken the one he killed Matthew with. He hid it behind him and looked for Kiku and Yao.

They had shut Ludwig's door and were stood outside it. They saw Alfred approaching and looked at him expectantly.

Alfred shook his head. “He's not in there.”

Yao let out a pitiful cry, burying his head into Kiku's shoulder. Alfred stepped closer. He lifted the knife and sank it deeply into Yao's pale neck, twisting the blade as he pushed it in farther. Yao's eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor. Kiku screamed and stepped backwards.

Alfred smirked. “I killed them all except one, Kiku. Matt, Fran, Feli, Artie and now Yao. Lud was the one who did my job for me. I'm not letting you escape now. You now that meal I fed you all the day before yesterday?” Alfred waited for Kiku to nod. “Did Francis taste good to you? He sure did for me. You wolfed him down like a pig, didn't you?”

It suddenly dawned on Kiku and he gagged, falling to the floor as he vomited.

Once he'd finished, the taste of bile thick in his mouth, he looked up at Alfred with hateful brown eyes.

“You're sick.”

Alfred cackled, eyes wide and bright. “I know, Kiku. Believe me, I know. Matt and Artie were good fucks, too, even though Art was alive when I fucked him. He still didn't want it, though.”

Kiku got to his feet, whimpering at the sight of Yao, dead, in a pool of his own blood. “I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

“Go ahead.” Alfred shrugged. “Hate me. I don't care, you're gonna die soon anyway. Hey, say hi to the others for me, won't you?”

Kiku shook his head, bracing himself as Alfred came closer. Alfred swung and Kiku screeched as the blade tore through his nightshirt and into his left arm. He jerked himself away and grabbed Alfred's forearm, pushing as hard as he could. Alfred didn't move an inch, and firmly grasped hold of Kiku's other arm, twisting it at an unnatural angle until it broke with a loud 'pop'.

“Ain't this fun, Kiku?” Alfred said, releasing Kiku's arm as the Japanese man stumbled backwards into the wall.

Alfred stalked closer and closer, staring at Kiku with bright, emotionless eyes. Kiku ran, bolting towards the door to the living room. Alfred swiftly chased after him, laughing as he went.

Kiku was so close to the front door when Alfred pounced on him, pinning him down. The American flipped him over and Kiku punched him in the nose, despite how the strain made the wound burn and sting. Alfred flinched and Kiku managed to wriggle out from underneath him, fleeing the cabin altogether. He ran and ran into the forest, getting lost amongst the trees.

Alfred trailed after him, nose bloody. “Come on out! Here, piggy, come on now! Don't be like that,” he called out, searching the forest with intelligent, keen eyes that were once so full of emotion.

Kiku ran farther, panting and gasping for air. His lungs burned and his legs ached, eyes stinging with tears. His skin was bitten all over by the cold, his bare feet numb from the snow. Eventually, he came to a stop, crouching behind a tree. He felt his teeth chatter and he curled in on himself, hoping to warm up.

Alfred searched the forest, using Kiku's clumsy footsteps and small blood trail to find him. He came across a large tree and noticed a pale hand just beyond the thick roots that were above ground.

This was it.

He slowly stalked Kiku like a predator would stalk its prey, peering behind the trunk to see a head of uncharacteristically messy black hair. He smiled, leaning in to whisper in Kiku's ear.

“Peek-a-boo, li'l piggy,” Alfred murmured, covering Kiku's mouth as he dug the blade into his chest. Kiku's eyes were wide as he struggled, feeling the sharp blade puncture his skin. Alfred released him, removing the knife as Kiku lurched forwards. Alfred crawled on top of him, removing the older male's night clothes and pulling his trousers down. He pulled his cock out through the slit in his briefs once more and pumped it, getting it nice and hard. Kiku, meanwhile, refused to be a passive partner – 'much like Arthur,' Alfred thought – and continually struggled against Alfred. When the American was fully hard, he wasted no time in shoving himself into Kiku's tight, unwilling body, relishing in the scream he got in return.

He pounded into the smaller male with no mercy, using one hand to roughly hold Kiku's hip and the other to raise the knife above his head. Alfred then plunged it into Kiku's thigh, striking a major artery and watching the blood pour out with glee. Kiku sobbed against the snow, no longer resisting. He knew his fate was sealed now, so what was the point?

Alfred finished and Kiku felt his insides burn. The American tucked his dick back into his boxers but made no move to pull up his trousers.

“Ah, Kiku, you held out longer than the others. You should be proud of yourself, honestly.” Alfred toyed with the knife, poking his index finger with the bloody blade to test it's sharpness. He grinned down at Kiku, holding the knife above his own head. “Say goodbye, piggy.”

Kiku turned his head to the side, spitting out his final words:

“Fuck you.”

Kiku wasn't one to swear, and Alfred felt himself laugh; a hollow, empty thing. And the knife came down. It was swift, like a bird swooping down to catch an insect. The blade went right into the back of his skull, digging deeper until it was no use. He went limp, lifeless in the snow.

Alfred wasn't fully satisfied, pulling up Kiku's nightshirt until his pale back was completely exposed. Then, Alfred leaned down and carved the word “PIG” into the flesh. It was bright in contrast to Kiku's ivory skin, and Alfred admired the way it bled.

He made his way back into the cabin, shutting the front door as he sat in front of the fireplace. He was all alone now.

No more urges rattled his mind.

It was quiet. Calm. Like nothing had happened, but Alfred knew it had. Then it wasn't so quiet anymore, and his head was filled with screaming.

Familiar screaming.


	10. Last One Remaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't meant to happen. Why is this happening? Make it stop.
> 
> They won't go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SUICIDE SCENE.

Finally, after being empty for so long, Alfred cried. He cried and cried and cried, screaming at nothing. His head was filled with their voices now, asking him why. Why had he hurt them all? Even Ludwig, who'd killed himself. He did what he did because of Alfred, after all. Despite their harsh murmurs, Alfred continued to feel nothing; he felt not even a sliver of remorse or guilt even though tears streamed down his cheeks. He just wanted them to stop. It was so loud. 

Alfred got to his feet, knife in hand.

They all appeared before him, and Alfred nearly dropped the knife he'd just picked up. 

“Do it, Alfred. You deserve it,” Matthew whispered, naked with blood running down his inner thighs and neck. His chin was stained with fresh crimson as it leaked from his mouth and his eyes were vacant, filled with hatred.

“You're a horrible person. Get it over with, Alfred,” Francis chimed in as he bled in a similar way to Matthew. One of his eyes was gone, a river of red pouring down his cheek.

“Look what you did to us. Now do it to yourself,” Feliciano commanded in a strained voice, face mangled and bloody.

Arthur hummed in agreement, nose and mouth covered with duct tape. Blood ran down his thighs, too, and his venemous green eyes said everything he would've said if he could speak.

Ludwig could only make a groaning noise, his face swollen as a tie constricted his airflow.

Yao tilted his head to the side, opening his mouth to release a garbled sound. Blood poured from the side of his neck and mouth, similar to Matthew.

Kiku was only dressed in his torn nightshirt. He turned around, revealing crimson that had bled through the fabric, just like his inner thighs and left arm. “Did you really think we'd let you be once you finished? You don't deserve life, Alfred. You deserve to suffer. Make it slow and painful, like you did to me. Like you did to them.”

Alfred nodded, eyes wide as he trembled with pure fear. He gulped and took the knife to his stomach, plunging it in once, twice, thrice, before he stopped. The spirits nodded, urging him on. Their voices and moans of pain grew louder and louder inside his head. He was delirious with adrenalin, raising the knife to stab his own thighs. Once they were both cut up to his utter satisfaction, he fell back onto a chair. He weakly lifted the knife above his chest before using his remaining strength to shove it deeply past his ribs, puncturing his heart. A creaky groan left his throat and his head fell backwards, neck bared as he lay lifeless in the chair.

The spirits disappeared, not that Alfred noticed, and the cabin was silent.

Alfred's eyes were wide open as he sat there, motionless and bleeding. No-one would be able to find the cabin or his body, or everyone else's body for that matter, and he'd end up spending his time rotting away in that chair.

He became angry, glaring and gritting his teeth in frustration as he stared at his own body. How could he have become afraid of them so easily? Now, he was dead. Angrily, he stormed over to where his corpse lay. He attempted to assume the same position and eventually succeeded, hoping to be able to get back into his body, but nothing of the sort happened.

Alfred shot back up, looked back at his dead body, and shrieked once more. Then, as he fell to his knees, he heard something echo in his head.

Laughter.

Mocking him, taunting him, fuelling his never-ending rage.

He felt his eye twitch and he cursed loudly at the ceiling. Alfred continued to plot his revenge, but nothing ever became of his plans.

They were free, and he was not. They were satisfied, and he was left seething in the very room he'd died in, confined to those walls. He couldn't leave, he was well and truly stuck. Left alone to stare at his own decaying body.

It was over for them, yes, but merely beginning for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the ending wasn't disappointing, I've been nervous about posting it ever since the start. Anyway, thank you all so much for sticking through until the end, it means so much to me! Thank you to those who commented as well and supported me throughout.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> ((By the way, I hope some of the chapter titles were amusing to see after reading the chapter itself *wink wink*))

**Author's Note:**

> I will update as much as I can, most likely daily! I'd like to see your thoughts on who's bound to die first ;)


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